


Those who walk among us

by Tenshi_Zujin



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 17:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenshi_Zujin/pseuds/Tenshi_Zujin
Summary: Have you ever just walked by an aisle in a store or bench in a park and known that someone was watching, that someone was hunting. Doorways and Windows that you can't stand to have open?





	Those who walk among us

I was 7 when I first consciously remember and recognize that the other children couldn’t see or hear everything I could. Shadows in doorways, doors that others didn’t see, creatures that were similar to those in fairy tales and cartoons but none of which brought them justice.  
I was terrified for quite a while as I was coming to terms with either being completely crazy or was it real? I knew there was only one way to find out. So I finally managed to find the courage to see if others could feel what I saw and heard and even was able to touch.  
I made a deal with another child in my grade. She was in the special needs class that my current foster sister was in. Her name was Candice. She would do anything you told her and always believed that everyone was her friend. I’ll never forget her name or the horrible thing that I had caused to happen to her.  
Candice’s task was simple. Lay down on the bench. The bench that I saw a man sitting on; he was leisurely reading a book, occasionally looking up at all of the children playing on the play ground. He didn’t strike me as the sort who molested children but I had been wrong before.  
She walked over to the bench as soon as our teacher was distracted and paused several times her face fearful but I kept encouraging her to continue, after a few moments she made it to rod iron bench and did exactly as I asked until she stretched out on the bench with her hdead on the armrest and for a moment her feet looked like they hung in mid air, that is until she screamed.  
The girl Candice let out this noise of pure terror and I don’t believe I will ever forget this noise even after I’m dead. She screamed and didn’t even try to move until the man on the bench shoved her feet off of his lap. She stopped screaming when she wasn’t touching him anymore but she still just lay there curled up on that bench sobbing like she was terrified of even moving.  
Our teacher heard of course and hurried as quickly as she could to see what was wrong as did most of my class. I didn’t I just watched the man on that bench stand up and walk toward me. Children stepped around him like he wasn’t even there. As he got closer to where I stood at the fence line he began to smile. First it was just a simple twitch at the corner of his mouth but by the time he got with in arm distance of me I could see his perfectly white and straight teeth and exactly how sharp each and every one of them were. I could barely draw my eyes away from his teeth to notice what was going on around me.  
He said to me “Little Cuckoo Bird, why have you so graciously given me your nest mate?”  
At the time I didn’t understand what he was implying, but none the less I answered  
“I had to make sure you and everything else I see that they do not is real. Candice will stop crying.”  
He just stared at me for few moments with his black eyes, as if he was making some huge decision and then he reached into his suit jacket pocket an withdrew a business card that he then handed to me and he spoke almost…gently.  
“When you have questions that you need answered simply call out the name on my card and I will answer what I can.” And with that he simply disappeared.  
No noise or blur, he was simply gone.  
The card was blank except for the embossed gold writing that was in a language that I didn’t recognize, and it would be several years before I would be able to find out what language it was in and how to pronounce it. 

 

One day I when I was about 14 I finally got the courage up to use the card that was given to me when I was 7. I had searched the internet and the school as well as the local public library relentlessly for a reliable resource for translation and pronunciation of the card. It was purely by chance that I learned that the language on the card was a really old form of Parthian.  
I ended up discovering what was on that card by going to a museum on a field trip with my class.  
History was my favorite subject in school, and I had been looking forward to this trip for weeks. It had taken me almost the entire time to come up with $8.25 required for admission. I had scrounged up change and completed various chores around the neighborhood my current foster family lived in.  
We had to stay in groups supposedly but in reality most everyone split up to explore their own interests. I stayed with the guide and hung on every word that the older man said after he introduced himself.  
“My name is Dr. Raymond Bayer and I study languages specifically the dead languages.”  
He explained various exhibits both their very generic description plates as well as anecdotes from his personal knowledge.  
My instructor was beginning to lag and began to take frequent stops at every available bench and I was eager to see and learn more. I was able to convince my teacher to allow me to move ahead with Dr. Bayer and that at 2pm I’d meet the rest of the class at the food court.  
Dr. Bayer and I continued through the museum as he answered my seemingly never ending questions.  
I eventually grew quite when I saw script on a clay tablet that looked so familiar to the business card I was given. Dr. Bayer 

 

I carefully wiped my hands off on my pants and stepped closer to the man desk and forced the words out “excuse me… is there anyway, I could get you to tell me how to say this or tell me where to find out how to do so?”


End file.
